


Loss

by immafluxing (the_crit_witch)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Other, Shiganshina Trio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 03:52:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4206906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_crit_witch/pseuds/immafluxing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The trio comes together in the aftermath of the fall of wall Maria.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loss

Just like that, they were gone. 

All of those people, his grandfather, everyone. All of them had been sent off to die. Armin hadn’t been able to speak since the gate had shut. He clutched his grandfather’s hat in a white-knuckled grip, replayed those last moments over and over again in his head: his grandfather ruffling his hair, handing him the old hat that he’d always worn. He’d put on a brave face for Armin, for Eren, for Mikasa.

Tears made their way quietly down Armin’s cheeks and he was quick to wipe them away. Neither Mikasa nor Eren said a word, there was nothing for them to say. They’d lost loved ones, but not like this. Their losses had been tragic, unexpected—this was calculated, impersonal. Today they had watched people’s loved-ones marched off to be sacrificed, all under the guise of the reclamation of Wall Maria. Such a horrible farce it was, as if these people, untrained, ill-equipped, could exterminate the droves of titans that had come coursing through the damaged wall. Neither Eren nor Mikasa knew what to say in the face of loss like this.

“Come on, Armin,” Erin eventually murmured. The smaller boy stared a moment longer at the gate. It seemed as if he would respond but instead he turned, eyes downcast, as if he were walking in a dream.

“We should get into the ration line before they run out of bread again.” Mikasa’s voice was calm, even. She was ever the rational one, who else would take care of them if not her? She led them down an alleyway toward the warehouse that dispensed rations to those who remained. Armin lagged behind; his feet shuffled over the uneven cobblestones of the street. He kept his grandfather’s weather-beaten hat clutched to his chest. 

The ration line was much shorter than it had been before. Eren looked around at the once-crowded area, looked at the haunted faces of those who had been spared. Other kids like themselves lined up alone where that morning their parents had stood with them. He saw a woman several people ahead of them, dead-eyed as she mechanically cradled a fussing infant in her arms. These people had been spared, but here they stood burdened with the knowledge that their spouses, their siblings, their parents, had not. The woman clutched her child with the same fervor that Armin did his grandfather’s hat, grasping for wisps of what had been only a short time ago. Big brothers and sisters held their little siblings’ hands, many with the frightened look of those with new and momentous responsibilities thrust upon them.

The line moved much faster now; this was, after all, what so many had been sacrificed for, more food and resources for the rest of them. The three of them accepted stale hunks of bread even though their appetites had waned. Mikasa urged her friends to eat regardless, and kept an eye on Armin especially. He only seemed to eat when she was watching him, but slowly his small portion of bread was reduced to crumbs that Armin didn’t notice on his shirt. 

That night there was more space in the warehouse the refugees were housed in. Eren thought it felt colder, quieter. He and Mikasa pulled blankets off the communal stack and moved to stake out their corner as they had each night before. They looked up to see Armin still standing near the stack, holding two blankets. He began to tremble, the numb expression on his face transforming into one of horror.

“I-I forgot.” He stared at the place he and his grandfather had slept each night. He quickly replaced the extra blanket and began to wander toward his old space. He couldn’t think about that, not yet. His friends couldn’t see him break down. They’d lost people too, he couldn’t act like he was the only victim. He just had to make it until lights out, just until the candles on the wall were extinguished.

“Armin, where are you going?” Armin lifted his head; Eren’s voice had punctured the fog that had settled into his mind. 

“It’ll be warmer if you sleep over here with us,” Mikasa added.

“Guys?” His voice sounded small, surprised. He was weak, he’d always been weak. Eren and Mikasa had come to his rescue over and over again when he was being bullied back in Shinganshina. He’d been petrified when the Colossal Titan had attacked. Why would they even want to let him in like this, especially when all he wanted to do was break down? He couldn’t trouble them with something like seeing him cry. Even now he felt embarrassed tears well up in his eyes but blinked them away quickly. He stood frozen as Eren grabbed the blanket out of Armin’s hands and laid it out between Mikasa’s and his own. Eren’s eyebrows knit together.

“Like we’d make you go sleep off by yourself,” he huffed. 

Armin shuffled his way over to their corner; he hesitated before sitting in the nest of blankets his friends had set out. He watched as Mikasa wrapped her faded red scarf once more around her, obscuring the bottom of her face as she curled up on her side. Eren wedged himself up into the corner, making a tangled cocoon of his blanket.

“You’ve always been family, Armin, you know that,” Eren added, and the earnestness in his eyes left no room for argument. Armin was family, that was all there was to it. To Erin he always had been, he always would be, without question.

The heavy footfalls of military boots echoed through the warehouse as a member of the Garrison began to snuff out the candles in their sconces on the walls. The last one soon blinked out and Eren and Mikasa were suddenly cloaked in the inky black of the warehouse turned refugee camp. Armin wriggled down into his own thin blanket and tried to get comfortable.

Would he be able to sleep tonight? He found that he was simultaneously comforted by and terrified of the idea of sleep. Would he dream? That was the real problem, he hoped that he wouldn’t. He hoped he could manage not to dream about what could be happening beyond the wall. Armin lay on his back and stared up at the lightlessness above him. He still held his grandfather’s frayed hat. He felt the tears begin to build again and for the first time that day he let them flow freely. He let slip a loud sniffle that Eren and Mikasa had to have been able to hear, but they made no indication that they noticed. They let him have this moment to collapse, to crumble under the weight of the day. They knew that the faster he let himself do this the faster he would be able to rebuild. It was the only way to survive in this world, to be destroyed and remade. He’s wasn’t alone, however much he felt like he’d been that morning when the gates had shut. In between his quiet sobs Armin managed to squeak out two words.

“Thanks, guys.”

 

It was still dark when Armin stirred. He shifted in the group’s makeshift nest of blankets only to realize that Eren was splayed out halfway across him, mouth open in a snore. He looks to his left and found that Mikasa had curled up tight against his shoulder. It was in that moment that, despite all that had happened, Armin managed to smile. They’d lost so much, but they still had each other. They were still a family, even if they’d all been a little bit broken.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's an older piece that I dug out of my files and cleaned up a bit, I love these three so much and thought some of you might enjoy this quick little fic! Thank you for reading!


End file.
